


Before I close my eyes

by confidentlouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A bit of Sophia Smith, And Harry as Pining Hottie, Angst, Featuring Louis as Russet Perfection, Fluff, Kinda, M/M, Reality, Sharing a Room, Smut, University AU, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-01-26 11:21:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1686530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confidentlouis/pseuds/confidentlouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry really didn't mean feel the way he felt when Louis’ sunlit skin seeped warmth into his knuckles</p><p>or</p><p>Harry and Louis share a uni apartment. Smut, angst and fluff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“I’ll be fine, Mum,” Harry promised, kissing her on the cheek and then wrapping her in a hug. 

Anne’s grey eyes searched his green ones for a moment and she sighed. “I know, I just wish you would stay here while you’re at university.”

Harry grinned at her. “I don’t. Besides, I want to get into the whole atmosphere...” Anne didn’t answer but let him go so he could pull his bags into the taxi. When he squeezed into the taxi, he wound down the window and waved cheerily. “Bye Mum! Hope you have a uni-que time to yourself!” 

Although the taxi was drawing away, he could still hear her groan. “Terrible!”

As his house disappeared around the corner, he sank back but no smile came nor the usual feeling of smugness that came with a joke. He could only feel lightness and the unbearably wonderful state of being as dizzy as the rushing roads out of the window. 

The taxi driver glanced into his mirror to look at Harry and grunted. “Moving out?”

Harry felt a smile tug the corner of his mouth, and leaned forward, opening his mouth to speak.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Thank you,” Harry nodded to the driver, handing him the money. 

The driver’s old face split into a grin and he slapped him on the shoulder. “You gun be alright, mate. G’luck.”

Harry halted before a tall apartment, old, grey but solid, at least. He shouldered through the front two doors and pressed the ‘up’ lift button. When it chimed, he stumbled into the lift with his heavy bags which may or may not have pretty much all the stuff in his bedroom jammed into it. Just before the doors closed, someone started shouting, “Keep the doors open!” Harry jumped to the button, pressing it and a teenager slipped through the frozen gap. The doors shut behind him and a creak and groan told them both the lift had started moving.

The boy looked around his age with light brown, gelled up hair and large brown eyes. He wore a now grime streaked maroon jumper which, Harry was hesitant to admit, clung to his chest and biceps well.  
The boy stuck out his hand and said simply, “I’m Liam, thanks for holding the door.”

Harry shook it and smiled, telling him it was no problem and that he was Harry, new here. Liam nodded comfortably before asking smilingly, “Would you press number eight?”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Reaching the top level (finally) Harry headed to room 52, glancing around. The walls were a clean white and the floor polished wood, everything having a slightly vintage look. Harry grinned to himself. He could work with vintage. 

Reaching the door, Harry slid in the key, turned to the click and pushed it open with his shoulder. “Hello?” he asked to the quiet apartment. He was pleasantly surprised. The room reflected the vintage style of the corridor. It was a T shape, with entrance leading to the intersection, a kitchen and lounge. Then it split off in opposite directions, one end where the bedrooms where and the other when the bathroom and laundry was. “Hello?” he repeated, dumping his bags by the kitchen.

He was supposed to be staying with a room-mate called Luke or Lewis or something. He considered fumbling about for the email he printed out but decided, no. 

Perhaps he wasn’t here yet. 

Harry had admittedly arrived a good three days before semester started so he could settle in. He went to the bedrooms and turned into the first one, knowing he would get dibs if Lewis wasn’t here yet. 

Abruptly, he halted in shock, confronted with legs, legs and ass. Harry squeaked in surprise and the boy straightened and turned. 

Harry’s eyes grew larger. 

Soft, feathery hair, clear, cornflour blue eyes and a sweet mouth. His skin was the colour of caramel and, for an instant, Harry’s mouth watered. As much as Harry hated to throw about a word, Lewis was beautiful.  
Suddenly, Harry caught himself and mentally slapped himself. Get a grip man, you can’t hit on a roommate. He offered a hand, finding an apologetic smile. “Oops?”

The boy laughed easily, his eyes catching Harry’s lightly, friendly. “Hi! You’re Harry, I presume.” 

“Yeah,” Harry smiled slowly into the word. “You must be Lewis.”

Lewis winced for an instant. “Um that isn’t actually how you say it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, did you read it wrong or –”

“Right, probably –”

“Or were you looking for a Lewis?”

“I don’t know, I can’t really remember...”

“Well it’s Louis in any case,” the boy said, grinning, his earlier annoyance gone and good humour replacing it. “Harry, right? Nice to meet you... I’m glad I got someone like you instead of whom I thought I’d meet. Let’s hope I haven’t misjudged you, hah!” Louis’ words skittered from his mouth like an avalanche of pebbles and Harry was struggling to sort them into a meaning, trying to keep up with this boy’s words. “Do you want some help with your bags, love?” He added before turning towards the kitchen anyway. 

Harry shook his head slightly and muttered a belated “Yes.” Louis dodged past him, brushing shoulders gently, to scuttle into the kitchen. Harry breathed out softly and tried to calm himself. What was wrong with him? 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Louis crunched his teeth into the taco and he groaned, closing his eyes. Harry watched his roommate closely, but, of course, not closely to note how his dark, thick lashes fluttered on his cheeks. Of course. “Is it good?”

Louis lifted up both thumbs, his mouth still full and Harry grinned. After sorting out his clothes and books, he had scavenged through the fridge to make a meal in celebration of his first night. Louis was only too happy to comply, having expected a take away meal at best. 

In fact, Louis seemed to be happy to comply with pretty much anything, he had a quick smile and easy words and somehow, nothing had been awkward since the minute they’d met.

“Where’d you learn how to make these?” Louis asked around his food.

Harry looked up, considered the question, before bringing his eyes back to meet Louis’ sharp shards of blue-grey eyes. “Grandma... we were always cooking stuff together.”

“Sounds hot,” Louis commented and, for some inexplicable reason, Harry gulped. Perhaps it was something to do with the lewd way Louis’ eyes appraised him, from his hair to pause on his lips and then his collarbones. 

Harry coughed and swallowed some more water, then stood up to wash his plate.

“Have I upset you, Harry Styles?” Louis’ voice inquired innocently, though Harry’s hair on the back of his neck stood up because his name sounded rather nice with Louis’ accent. 

He kept his eyes focused on the steaming, bubbling water. Since his tongue felt glued dry to the roof of his tongue, he began scrubbing the dishes energetically. After a few minutes, he peeked over his shoulder to see Louis had left.

He turned back to the sink, feeling oddly disappointed. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The apartment was very dark, looming shadows cast by the only light on, Harry’s bedside lamp. After stripping to his boxers, he felt a sudden urge to have a quick check of the locks of the apartment. He trod quietly around, scrutinising the windows and doors. On his way returning to his bedroom he passed Louis’. 

Out of some strange curiosity, Harry persuaded himself that checking to see if his roommate was asleep yet was perfectly reasonable. 

He peeked in. Harry tilted his head slightly at the still boy, his green eyes taking in how Louis’ bare, tan arms contrasted with the clean, cream sheets and how his hand fisted the sheet close to his chin.

“Go to sleep,” Louis groaned and Harry jumped about three metres off the ground. Louis turned over in the sheets restlessly, eyes still shut. “I can see you standing in the light… go to sleep.”

Harry had already darted out before Louis had finished, cheeks burning and buried his face into the soft covers feeling like an idiot.

He stripped off completely, an old habit of his because he really liked the coolness of the air as it touched his hot skin. And, yes, he was incredibly warm right now, embarrassment roasting his cheeks and ears red. Again, he couldn’t help but wonder uneasily what his problem was around Louis. 

Like, he was just a boy.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He had already finished breakfast and was pulling on his classic skinny jeans and low cut white shirt before he starting hearing Louis moving about. 

Louis peered into his room some fifteen minutes later, hair messy and soft. Harry looked up from his laptop. “Whatcha doing?” Louis mumbled, his voice thick and sleepy. 

“I’m going out. Y’know, book supplies, furniture and proper grocery shopping.”

Louis tried to bristle threateningly and Harry couldn’t help but let a big, froggy smile split his face. As Louis was, in his cuddly, sleepy form, he only managed to look like a baby hedgehog. “Proper grocery shopping? What I have is fine! I don’t want quiches and casseroles in my fridge thanks very much.”

Harry shook his head. “You literally only have milk, coco pops and some bread.”

He huffed. “I don’t tell you how to live your life.” And then he scowled menacingly, stomping out the room.

Harry didn’t feel too menaced. He turned back to his computer which displayed a map of the neighbourhood and then Louis yelled, “I’M COMING WITH YOU BY THE WAY... NO QUICHES.” Harry laughed in response, eyes squinty for a minute before he recovered his breath.

Louis seemed to be good at that. That breath-stealing thing.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Except for now. He wasn’t sure whether he was amused or mildly horrified. “What is that?” Harry asked bluntly, glancing to him as Louis scrambled into the car, an overly large purse in his hand.  
“It’s my wallet!” Louis said defensively as they pulled into the busy traffic. “If you must know, it has all the essentials in it.”

“Essentials?” Harry laughed and then stopped as he felt Louis’ eyes glancing over him and felt his cheeks go a bit pink.

“Yes.” Louis replied primly, not the least bit fazed. “Money, phone, iPod, sunscreen, tissues. You get the gist.”

Harry shook his head. “So a man-purse.”

“It’s a wallet!”

“Right.” Harry shook his head, muttering, “Man-purse.”

Louis shot him a withering look and muttered something under his breath that sounded distinctly like, “Says the man-child.”

But then again, Harry wasn’t aware of Louis, at all. 

Of course. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well this is boring,” Louis told the cherry he held up sincerely. 

Harry glanced over at him. They had got all the book supplies and some desk equipment Harry had liked the look of and now Harry had insisted they’d got some fresh food. “Sorry pal.” 

Louis gave him a look and retorted sulkily, “You don’t sound sorry.” And then popped the cherry in his mouth. 

Harry panicked, rushing towards him and clutching Louis’ hands away from his mouth. Too late. All that was left was the green brown stalk. 

“You can’t do that! Louis, if someone sees you –”

“Then what? They take it out of my mouth?” Louis interrupted airily, casting a hungry eye at the grape basket. Then he stopped and looked down at Harry’s hands which still held his tightly to his own, pulled into Harry’s chest to stop Louis’ slim thieving fingers from making another move. Harry blinked, feeling Louis’ sunlit skin seeping warmth into his knuckles.

And huh. Harry was close enough to count the eyelashes above Louis’ blueblue eyes.

Harry let go sharply and stepped away from Louis a pace. Louis continued, oblivious, “These cherries are nasty anyway; we should go to my Grandma’s farm for the best.”

An employee striding past caught the first bit of Louis’ sentence and, offended, looked at Louis closely. She noted the obvious stain of purple on his lips and how his cheeks moved slightly, in a chewing motion. The woman caught his wrist and asked briskly, “I am sorry sir,” (Looking not in the least bit sorry but very, very insulted) “But eating within the fresh food department is prohibited. I will have to escort you out and then refer you to the manager.” 

Louis threw a blue-eyed, laughing glance at Harry before letting the woman take his elbow and lead him out of the store.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Told you,” Harry couldn’t help but smirk as Louis strapped on his seatbelt. 

“Maybe you’re just a paranoid who got lucky.” The boy muttered angrily.

Harry revved the engine and they set off. Louis added casually, “The offer is still up, you know.”

Harry glanced at the caramel-skinned boy and raised an eyebrow. In the mid-day, bright sunlight, Louis seemed to glow golden faintly down his cheekbones and haloing his hair. “Offer?”

“About going to my Grandma’s farm to get proper cherries... you didn’t buy any in the end did you?” Louis added, turning his neck round to have a glance in the back and oh wow Harry should really concentrate on the road, but how can he when Louis is exposing a perfect, golden expanse of skin Harry just wants to sink his teeth into, how can he when Louis is doing the stealing-breath thing again?

He coughed raggedly and fiercely tried to think of something else, staring at the road. Then he smiled slowly as the thought formed in his head. “That would be a cherry bad situation to be in.”

Louis stared at him, turning back around. “I will slap you with something.”

Harry grinned, both dimples sinking into his cheeks. “Hopefully not with your man-purse... that would be something juicy to tell the kids.”

A man purse hit him in the face. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hello dear!” A plump, pretty old woman grinned, engulfing Louis in a tight hug. She barely reached the height of his shoulders and yet the mischievous twinkle in her blue eyes made them not so different after all.

“Good to see you again!” Louis replied and hugged her tightly back. Then he stepped back with an arm that included Harry. “This is Harry, my new roommate. We were grocery shopping to stock up for our semester when the thought hit me! What better place to find quality food than your farm!”

The old lady grinned proudly. “What can I say? And without a doubt, of course you may have a little snoop around the old farm. Follow me!”

Ten minutes later, Harry found himself with a woven basket on his arm, wandering down a corridor of cherry trees. Louis ambled about in front, next to and behind him, picking cherries off the low hanging branches and giving his judgement of them to Harry.

Harry felt unreasonably relaxed. In the shade of the trees, the air was cool. He could taste the lingering tang of a ripe cherry on his tongue, the faint trace of Louis’ deodorant and the scent of freshly fallen rain.  
“Have a look at this,” Louis gestured Harry over and held up a glossy cherry in afternoon sunlight. “This is the most perfect cherry I have ever laid eyes on. Just look, no marks at all and the shape of a chubby love heart.”

“Perfect,” Harry breathed but he instead was staring at Louis, his heart-shaped face and skin that was so unmarred it seemed impossible, his glossy lips - Harry grinned forcedly. Platonic things, Harry. He’s your room-mate. “That’ll go nice in a pie,” he commented. Yes, that’s good, nice and friendly, platonic, non-threatening.

Louis shook his head violently to his suggestion. “No way! This one is mine!”

Then, ever so delicately, he pulled the cherry from its stem with his teeth and bit into the flesh. Halved, the cherry bled, tinting his lips a wonderful red and only just then did Harry realise how well purpley red worked with Louis’ caramel tan. The oblivious boy put his free hand to his mouth and spat the seed out. 

Harry had to suppress the sudden urge to lean forward and kiss away the colour from his lips. The boy looked up at him underneath his lashes and whispered, “Want the other half?”

Harry tried to shrug casually because of course he does but he wants the whole of Louis, pliant and soft, to be nibbled at like the bleeding, dark red cherry he held up. 

Louis’ blue eyes glinted mischievously. He held up the cherry and teased, “Come get it...” Harry obligingly reached out a hand for it but Louis shook his head and touched his own lips. “Chase it with this...”

Harry dimpled. He liked this game. He craned his neck forward and stepped closer to the boy. As he did, he realised Louis, for all his knowing little comments, feathery hair, cornflour blue eyes and russet perfection, barely reached his shoulder. 

Something very near his heart squeezed and then something not quite as near heated.

Flustered, he tried to seek a way out of this situation with a close-to-scathing remark. “I’ll have to kiss your fingers? Little bit weird, eh?”

Louis shrugged, his jaunty smile growing wider and he admitted easily, “I am a bit queer,” and popped the other half of the cherry in his mouth. Something resonated in Harry’s head and suddenly he had reached forward, turned the boy around by the shoulder and met his mouth with his own. 

Louis stumbled back a pace or two before his hands had snaked around Harry, one burying itself in his curls and the other on the front of his t-shirt. He tugged gently on the roots of his hair and Harry moaned slightly into the kiss. Louis’ hand twisted the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. 

Instantly the kiss became deeper, an intoxicating mix of cherry and louislouislouis. Louis’ tongue pushed into his mouth and he opened his own willingly but Louis was quick to remove his tongue again. He felt something pass between Louis’ and his lips, something juicy and full of flavour.

Abruptly, Louis pulled away, leaving Harry gasping. “Sorry pal, but I don’t like to lead my roommates on.” Then he sauntered away, the basket he had managed to take off Harry swinging by his hip. Harry, curls askew and mouth slightly open, stared after the boy. Then he automatically closed his mouth and started chewing. 

A distinct cherry tang filled his mouth and a smile spread across his face as he realised what that boy had done.


	2. Chapter 2

The drive back was relatively quiet, the box of cherries on Louis’ lap and Harry’s eyes fixed on the road. Louis’ words spun around his head like a music box ballerina. “I don’t like to lead my roommates on”. Obviously, he hadn’t appreciated that move Harry had pulled on him and fair enough, he’s probably not even into boys, and well, Harry had no right. 

No right at all.

And yet, Harry couldn’t find the heart in him to feel guilty. Anytime his thoughts strayed towards that sepia-tinted memory, his mind got all hazy and hot and flustered because Louis’ lips were thin and rough and warm and fitted perfectly against his. And then, how he had to tilt his head up to meet Harry, well Harry felt so endeared and made him want to do it all over.

He sneaked a quick glance at the man at the wheel and his throat tightened because he was beautiful, no other word for it. His delicate cheekbones and cute nose made his eyes seem wider apart and gave him an air of innocence.

Suddenly a thought occurred to him. “How old are you?” Harry asked curiously, pretending he totally hadn’t just fantasised making out with him two seconds ago.

Louis glanced across and replied, “Twenty-two... but I’d prefer to be nineteen.”

Harry laughed, a short bark of amusement. “Why’s that?”

Louis shrugged. “Twenty two is old. Plus I don’t get to be immature with an excuse of being a teenager. I have to grow up.”

“Don’t we all?”

Louis shot him a mock-surly look. “No.” Then he relaxed into his normal sunny smile. “How old are you anyway?”

“Nineteen. I’m studying law.”

“Boring.” Louis commented, but his dancing blue eyes took the sting out of the jibe. “I’m studying drama and education.”

Harry grinned at him. “Sounds like a hell of a drama.”

Louis shot him a withering look. “If you’re going to make a joke, make a good joke.” 

Harry pouted and Louis pouted back. Harry tried not to notice how Louis’ eyes went all wide and big or how his cheekbones seemed to jut out of his cheeks when he pouted.

When they arrived at the flat, two boys, cigarettes in their mouths, were slumped against a wall by the door, watching Louis and Harry leave the car.

One had dark hair and olive skin and his liquidy chocolate eyes surveyed them under thick lashes. His cheeks hollowed and he breathed out a spiral of smoke. There was a sexual litheness to him like an exotic tiger. 

Beside him was a shorter boy, dark hair dyed blonde on top as if the colour had been licked off by the sun. His blue eyes flickered, darting between Louis and then Harry. His arms were tattooed and muscular, one tucked in a pocket of his jeans and the other holding the smoke to his lips. 

Harry gulped but Louis strode right up to them. “Niall! Zayn! How are you two?”

Niall was the one to respond while Zayn continued to watch Harry with his dark eyes. “Here for the next semester. What about you Louis? What’s the craic?” His Irish voice was a shock to Harry, cheerful and friendly, a contrast to his intimidating appearance.

Louis shrugged. “Same as you then. This is my flatmate, Harry.” Suddenly, Harry’s hand was being shaken firmly by the Irish boy. 

“Good to meet you, mate. I’m Niall and this is Zayn.” 

Zayn’s lips raised in a slight smile but he made no move to take Harry hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said in a warm, husky voice. Harry felt momentarily entranced, a mouse in the spell of a snake.

Louis pulled him through the door and they were stepping into the elevator. “Not nice to stare,” Louis said teasingly. 

Harry blushed and coughed. “What... Um, what does Zayn study?”

A flash of annoyance over Louis’ face was gone in an instant. “English, Law and Education, I believe.”

Harry’s brows raised in interest. “Law?”

This time, Louis’ frown was unmistakable. “God, do I need to give you a water bottle, mate? You’re so damn thirsty.” Harry glanced sidelong at his roommate and noted the furrow between his eyebrows and how he avoided his gaze. 

And well, interesting.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Liam’s coming for dinner,” Louis announced, taking the Fifa CD out and turning off the TV. 

“Liam?” Harry asked. Surely not the Liam he knew?

“Yeah,” Louis said boredly. “Liam Payne, sporty, brunette. You’d have seen him around.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised. “Small world,” he muttered to himself, eyes not shifting from his paper. He was working on his calendar, with when he would fit in exercise, talking to his mum and study. Louis padded over to him, looked over his shoulder and breathed into his ear obnoxiously.

“What are you doing?” Louis asked not rudely after a few seconds like that. He had been pretty aloof since they returned to the apartment and had barely deigned to give Harry more than a one word answer.  
Happy to break this awkwardness, he eagerly explained, “I just like being organised and... coming to uni means I can get a fresh start.”

“That’s bullshit.” Louis decided. “A fresh start. What’s that supposed to mean? I could say that, from now as of 5:33, it will be a fresh start, I’m going to revamp my work habits, become more social blah blah. It’s all a consumerism conspiracy!”

Harry stared at Louis for a moment. “Okay.”

Louis stared at Harry for a moment. “Okay what?”

“Okay, I get it. Just a figure of speech,” Harry dimpled. “By the way, who’s making dinner?”

Louis paused for a second, looking surprised and a little pleased? Then, Louis gave him a look which said are-you-an-idiot? “You, obviously.”

“What, why?”

“Because you can cook,” Louis said simply and, as if that was the end of the discussion, began walking to his bedroom.

Harry shook his head. If he wanted a good relationship with his flatmate, he was going to have to earn respect. He jumped up and spun Louis around, pushing him towards the kitchen. “How about a compromise? We both do it?”

Louis began struggling in Harry’s strong arms and then went limp, realising resistance was futile. “Fine,” he said sulkily and Harry wanted to chew off his pouty bottom lip. “What are we making?” He asked, jumping up to sit on the counter.

Harry frowned slightly, thinking. “Spaghetti Bolognese?”

Louis nodded affably and Harry shook his head to himself. This boy was as changeable as his sister’s choice in clothes. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So um, remind me again... How do you... urhh... cook spaghetti?” Louis asked offhandly. 

Harry laughed, looking up from his pan with the meat sauce. “Seriously?” Louis glowered at him. “Okay, okay!” He bumbled over to Louis and got a look on what Louis had started on. “Is that water boiled?”

“Um no?” 

“Its fine, we can boil it over the cooker with the spaghetti. So you need to break up the spaghetti to it fits into the pan...” The boys bent their heads together as they concentrated, the quietness of the apartment broken by the snapsnaps of the dry pasta. 

“Now you turn the cooker on, turn the heat up and put the pasta in the pan!” Louis hastened to do that and Harry leant against the counter, his green eyes following the older boy. There was something so drawing, so charismatic about Louis, Harry just couldn’t put his finger on it.

Louis caught him and looked at him weirdly. “What?”

Harry shrugged. “I can’t believe you haven’t cooked before!”

Louis bristled. “Excuse me, I have cooked!”

Harry gave him a look. 

“Just not to the level of spaghetti bolognaise.” 

Harry shook his head. “Spag bol is the easiest thing to make! That’s the thing, stupid!” 

Louis came close to Harry and shoved him backwards with his small frame against the counter. “Excuse me, Harry Styles, you do not call me stupid unless I give you permission.”

Louis pushed harder against Harry’s chest so the counter top pressed uncomfortably against his back. “Did I give you permission?”

Harry gulped and squeaked a “No.”

Louis dropped his belligerent stare to rest on Harry’s collarbones. Leaning in, he breathed warm air onto the swooping swallow tattoo, his lips slightly parted. Harry’s skin simultaneously shivered and warmed. “That’s right, Styles.” He murmured, his voice suddenly getting much rougher.

At that moment, knocking came from the door. In a blink of Harry’s eyes, Louis was already making his way down the hallway. “Coming!” the boy yelled, his bare feet pitter-pattering against the carpet floor. 

By the time Louis returned to the kitchen, Harry was at the stove, moderating the pasta and sauce. He looked around, all previous fluster apparently vanished. Louis was with Liam and a pretty girl around Liam’s age. 

“Hi!” Harry said, winking at Liam and nodding politely at the girl. 

“Hey Harry!” Liam grinned. “This is Sophia.”

The girl leaned forward over the counter to shake hands with Harry. Harry was struck by her prettiness. She radiated rich colours, from the gold of her skin to the shine of her hair to the intriguing forest green of her eyes. 

Harry tore his roving eyes away from her face, removing his hand first. “Nice to meet you. Is it your first time here?” Louis and Liam walked away, into the living room, no doubt touring the apartment.  
Sophia shook her head. “No, second year. I’m studying French Advanced, Social Studies and Commerce.” 

“Wow,” Harry remarked, impressed. “Where does that lead to?”

Sophia shrugged, smiling. “Well, I’m planning on starting a modelling business in Paris.” 

Harry dimpled back at her.”Nice. By the way, is Liam your...?”

The girl grinned and shook her head quickly. “No way! We’re just friends!” and then laughed when Harry frowned sceptically at her. “It’s funny, most guys would be happy to believe that!”

Harry laughed with her. “Excuse me, do I look like most guys?” 

Sophia’s eyes flashed over him. “I don’t know... what makes you so different?”

“Well to begin with –"

Suddenly, Sophia cut him off, rushing over to the stove. “Is that burning?” Foam was brimming over the edge of the pasta pan and hissing when it touched the cool cooker. 

Harry jumped guiltily, having forgotten all about the food. “Hopefully not...” A quick examination showed the dinner hadn’t burned but was definitely ready. “DINNER!” he hollered and was rewarded by the hurrying of feet and the appearance of Louis and Liam. 

“You summoned and we called,” Louis joked extravagantly then came closer to watch Harry and Sophia deal out the spaghetti onto the five plates.

“Wow, this smells really good,” Liam observed appreciatively, breathing deeply. “You’re lucky to have a good chef!”

Harry glanced at him curiously as they all sat down at their places. “Who’s your flatmate?”

Liam grinned. “A guy called Josh Devine. Small but very muscular. All the ladies love him. He’s just not too good at cooking.”

Harry laughed and gave Louis a side-way glance. “Neither is Loui-”

“DOES ANYONE want a glass of water?” Louis said, beginning loudly to drown out Harry’s comment. They all nodded and Louis went over to the tap to fill up the cups.

“So what are you studying, Harry?” Liam asked.

“Law, advanced English and music. A lawyer for one of the rich pop stars looks like the person to be at the moment.” 

Sophia nodded, agreeing, “Yeah... Goodness knows Justin Bieber’s lawyer is swimming in thousand pound notes.”

Liam grinned and laughed, but his eyes didn’t stray on Sophia. This did not escape Harry’s notice. 

Louis returned with the water. “So, what’d I miss? What’s been going on? And nice to meet you Sophia, might you be one of Liam’s lady friends or Liam’s lady friend,” His chatter didn’t seemed to affect Liam and Sophia in the same way it did with Harry, as they instantly caught his meaning and laughed and blushed and retorted.

Harry dug in to his dinner quietly. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was well past eleven o’clock when Liam and Sophia bid farewell. Louis stared after their retreating backs until they reached the elevator. Then he shut the door and made his way back to the living room. Harry was sprawled on the couch, his eyes shut and hair messy over his forehead.

Louis came closer to the sleeping boy and stared down at the peaceful profile. An overwhelming feeling of affection rolled over Louis and squashed him flat to leave him gasping a little for breath. Suddenly, Louis spun around and ran to Harry’s bedroom, returning with his pillow and blanket. There was no sense moving the boy now, seeing as he was over a head taller than him, so it seemed like a better option to let Harry sleep.

He cradled Harry’s head in his palm and lifted it to slide the pillow underneath. Then he shook the blanket over him and watched it settle. Harry snuggled deeper into the sofa and pulled the blanket closer, muttering a little.

Louis resisted the urge to pepper kisses all over Harry’s cheeks and padded down to his empty, cold bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii! So I got this done five days before Saturday!!! yay whattup ahhah sorry, lemme know what you think in the comments and um yeah, hope you enjoyed :)


	3. Chapter 3

Harry woke up to the smell of eggs and bacon and the deafening sound of laughter. He jerked up and looked around in panic. He was fully clothed, lying on the sofa with a blanket and pillow, and suddenly the memories of last night flooded back. Liam and Sophia. That’s right. 

But the voices who had woken him up didn’t sound like Liam or Sophia. 

“The boy is awake!” Louis exclaimed, rushing over to Harry and jumping onto him. Raucous laughter met Louis’ action and Harry blearily struggled up.

“Louis! What the hell!” He yawned and wriggled blindly away from the warm, older boy. He opened his eyes slowly to meet sharp blue eyes. Louis’ breathed fanned his hair slightly and Harry gulped. 

Louis’ eyes darkened as his eyes raked Harry’s loose-limbed, relaxed form. Then he tugged the blanket off Harry. “Come on, lazy bones! We’re going out! In like an hour!” Louis cheered. 

Harry pushed Louis off his lap and stood up, stretching wearily. “Alright, alright calm down Lou…” He stumbled towards the kitchen and sat heavily down on one of the stools, before actually processing what Louis had said. “Wait what? Where are we going?”

This was met with a rumbly, warm laugh and Harry looked up to see Zayn at the cooker, forking into a plate of eggs. He gulped. There was way too much hotness in one room, he thought uncomfortably and felt heartily glad he hadn’t awoken half-hard or whatever.

Louis came over and pushed over a plate similar to Zayn’s before adding, “I hope you don’t mind me inviting Zayn over -”

Zayn smiled at Louis, his lips pulling back slightly to reveal perfect white teeth. “Mate. I didn’t even warn you. Niall’s probably still out at that frat party from last night. I didn’t really want to be around when he brought a girl round.”

Louis sighed a little wistfully. “Happy days, mate.” And something like understanding or a recalled memory passed between Zayn and Louis.

Harry glanced from one man to the other in confusion. “So, um… where are we going?”

Louis blinked and then smiled with his normal sunniness. “Paint-balling and then I’m thinking of inviting Liam, Niall and Zayn out for a good party at the club!”

Harry brightened. “Sounds good, man! Lemme just get changed.”

Louis grinned back at him, eyes widening a little as they stretched with his smile. “Go!” 

As Harry jogged to his bedroom, he heard Zayn and Louis quietly resume talking again. Harry frowned to himself as he began to get into new clothes. Had Zayn and Louis been former frat friends? Was that a thing? Had something happened between them? There was no telling if Zayn was interested in boys but Louis had hinted at it quite a few times… 

After Harry has finished tugging on his jeans, he realised the apartment had got very quiet. 

He paused and cocked his head. “Louis?” There was no reply, so Harry slipped his dog tags over his head and peeked his head around the corner of the door.

“BOO!” Louis yelled, jumping on Harry. His arms flailed crazily before he fell backwards onto the ground and Louis landed on top of him. “Ooft,” Louis gasped and lifted his arms to raise himself from Harry’s chest. His blue eyes twinkled. “Whoops, that wasn’t meant to go like that.

Harry just stared up at him and felt an answering smile tug at his lips. Louis up close smelled like lemon and pepper. Curiously, out of pure curiosity, he asked, “What are you wearing?”

Louis smiled wickedly. “Gucci Guilty, wanna smell?” And then, without warning, he leant forward so Harry’s nose was buried in Louis neck. Harry instinctively closed his eyes and smiled, feeling his lips draw against the boy’s soft skin. 

“Nice,” he mumbled because beneath the lemon and pepper was just Louis himself. Which was somehow triple times more intoxicating than any cologne.

Then, just as quickly, Louis rolled off him. “C’mon, we’d better go. Zayn said he was going to collect Liam and Niall so we’d all travel together.”

Harry coughed and nodded and scrambled up, flushed but hoping none of it showed.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was raining softly when they arrived at the laser skirmish which had made Louis grumble and huddle his small body tighter together and demand for coffee as soon as they arrived.

Harry definitely didn’t find it endearing. 

Zayn handed out coupons to each of the boys and told them, “We’re with another group, I think uni students, so I just asked if we could be on the same side.”

“AWESOME!” Niall yelled, assuming a jumping jack position with his arms in the air. “I think we need to choose a name?” Harry laughed. Niall, for all his bad-boy looks, was bubbly, friendly and a little bit crazy

Liam glanced at Zayn. “The Indestructible Egg?” Zayn began to smile and Liam frowned. “Excuse me, that was a legitimate name, how dare you Zayn Malik.” Zayn just grinned and swung an arm around Liam’s  shoulders, cuddling him a little.

Harry’s face lit up, sensing an opportunity. “Wait, wait, guys, how do you make an Egg Roll?” 

Louis glared at Harry. “Don’t.” 

Harry glanced around the expectant faces and grinned widely. “You push it!” and then started laughing, because he had to admit, for him, that was pretty good. “Get it?”

Niall raised an eyebrow. “You are so weird.” while Zayn and Liam chuckled.

Louis shook his head. “No, don’t encourage him, this can’t become a regular thing.” Then, at that moment, a man with military gear on and black-green paint smeared on his face interrupted them.

“Lads, its your game now.” They all followed him in through the gates into an area lined with high walls of corroded gun-grey metal and a dirt floor. Harry assumed it was some sort of hut. Already there was a group of other 20 or so year olds, armed with long sniper guns and heavy, mottled jackets. There were at least ten of them, five more than his team.

“Here,” Louis grunted, handing him over a jacket and gun. 

Harry glanced over in surprise, not realising that the boys had already picked up their stuff, “Thanks man.” 

“Alright troops, the aim of the game is capturing the flag. However, you are eliminated if a paintball makes a solid, nickel-size mark on you. The dead zone is here, meaning when you’re eliminated, you return to THIS HUT,” the man barked. 

Harry jumped a little and Louis pressed himself to Harry’s side. He felt surprisingly comforted.

“Wear your masks at all times. Allow surrenders, no blind firing and USE YOUR COMMON SENSE.” The man glanced from player to player carefully before barking. “The game begins when you hear, GAME ON. You must all first go to your home base before you can begin. Go for it, troops, and don’t forget the mission!”

The doors of the huts slid open and the sunlight poured in blindingly. They all barged and pushed and then, as Harry burst free of the hut, he followed Zayn’s long-legged sprint down the fence. The area had scattered trees and dilapidated buildings much like the starting hut around it.

Adrenaline was already pumping through him when he and Zayn reached their home base, which was behind a wall. Their flag, a tattered crimson scrap of fabric attached to a stick, stuck proudly out of the centre of a target-like circle.  

“Right,” Zayn called in a huddle. The other boys caught up and came close, Louis burying himself into Harry’s side, his arm slinging over his shoulder. “We need a game plan.”

Liam nodded. “Harry and Louis, you guys are our snipers. You hang about the trees and shoot at anyone trying to come in,” he said firmly. “Niall, you can be our last line of defence.”

Niall shrugged and said cheerily, “As long as I get to shoot at least one person.”

“Liam and I will be the offensive, and go for the flag,” Zayn continued, “If Liam and I -”

He was cut off by a booming, electronic, “GAME ON.”

Harry felt a shock of excitement run through his veins.

Louis grinned, eyes lighting up, and put his hand in. “The Indestructible Eggs?”

“TIE’s!!” They all cheered and they all separated, running off. 

Harry made for the left of their flag, behind a right-angled wall with a small gash in the side, which he looked through. His nerves were jangling as he heard the first of the wet sounds of paint splatter.  

Suddenly, a flicker caught Harry’s attention and he noticed an elusive figure slipping through the trees. Obviously, the sly tactics had beaten Zayn and Liam. 

His hands, slippery with sweat, found the trigger and he lined up his gun through the gash of the wall, flicking the safety switch. His left eye slipped shut and he squeezed the button slowly. 

BANG! His arm wobbled slightly with the backfire but he managed to keep it steady and the player jumped as a blue, nickel-sized mark appeared on her jacket. She squinted around and yelled, “DAMMIT!” before marching off, towards the dead zone.

After that, Harry managed to pick off three more attackers. The second last victim had seen him and yelled, “Behind the corner wall!” which had put him on edge, but luckily nothing seemed to have come of it. 

Suddenly, he heard a shot, an impact and a loud, “Sorry Liam!”. Harry tried to focus. So. Zayn was down. It was fine, they still had Liam and then Louis, he convinced himself. Then he chuckled, why was he so nervous?

“Look-out!!” Suddenly, Louis’ voice ripped through the quiet forest of huts and Harry ducked out of instinct. A thwat thudded above him and he jumped, looking up to see a huge, dark-red paint mark on the wall where his neck had been seconds ago. 

“Shit,” Harry breathed and sprinted away before the sniper could make another shot. He darted into a hut and crashed into a warm body. 

He jumped and aimed his gun at the figure.

“Shit, shit, Harry! It’s me! Louis!” The haze of panic lifted and Harry slowly lowered his sniper, to see it truly was his caramel roommate. There were paint-splatters of green and dark red on his jacket but no deadly nickel-sized mark. 

He sighed in relief and smiled. “Do you know what’s happening with the game?”

Louis nodded and made his way over to a window he was no doubt using to scout and sniper the area. He gestured for Harry to guard the entrance he had raced through. 

“You look for that dark-red bloke. And yeah, Zayn and Liam’s out and I’ve eliminated three of them.”

Harry gasped. “What? Both of our attackers? What do we do?”

Louis set his jaw. “One of us are going to have to go in.” As much as the situation was deadly serious, Harry couldn’t help but note the definition of his jawline.

“Um. Yeah.” Harry agreed lamely but Louis didn’t notice, his cornflour blue eyes scanning the area through the window. God, Harry was infatuated. 

“There is that one guy, with the dark-red paint gun, who almost got me and I’m pretty sure hit Zayn. Niall is already aware of him. I think Niall eliminated one who slipped past me.”

“Ok, well…” As much as Harry conceded that being conservative to win was probably the way they were going to win, well, Harry’s never been wise. He threw all caution to the wind and suggested, “Why don’t we both go for the flag then.” He quickly tried to explain himself without sounding like an overly attached weirdo, “I mean it’s two against three, but one of them, Dark Red, is out attacking.”

Louis grinned slowly, as he thought it through. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do it.”

“TIE?” Harry grinned, offering a fist.

“TIE.” Louis confirmed, punching it. They both slipped out of the hut and through the trees. 

A few minutes in and it was still quiet  and suddenly, the area descended into chaos. “Niall’s down! Niall’s down!” was called loudly and insistently and then Louis slammed Harry into the side of the wall. “What - ” Harry started.

“Shh,” he whispered, his eyes focussed over Harry’s shoulder. “Don’t move.” Harry felt himself again in close, close proximity to this boy and he felt his breath getting rapidly shallower. He could count the bristles down the line of his jaw or the individual lashes that framed his blue eyes and that, that just. Wow.

“I -” Harry struggled to push Louis off and Louis pressed his lips to Harry’s, and his smaller body closer than before. 

Instantly, like a rush of sparks, he felt warmth flood his system but before he could respond, Louis had darted behind a tree, taken aim and THWAT. 

“Gotcha,” Louis hissed, pure satisfaction spreading over his face as his green paint marked the shoulder of a player. Harry craned his neck around the tree to see the bloke lifted his hands as if to say, “Fair enough.” before leaving. 

“I - ” 

“C’mon.” Louis gestured. Harry took a breath to protest before touching his lips and shrugging. Don’t forget the mission at hand. 

Finally, they reached the point where Harry saw a new bright blue flag waving gently in the centre of a target. “Here,” he muttered to Louis who immediately knelt down to have a look.

Harry heard a rustle and then a snap of a twig and he swung his head round quickly.

A figure, at a distance away, was crouched behind a tree had his gun carefully aimed at Louis’ back who was gazing over at the flag. Harry’s eyes made the connection and heard the safety catch click. He watched as the figure squeezed the trigger slowly.      

“LOUIS!” He flung himself towards Louis, felt the jarring of his shoulder as a paintball hit his back. The purple paint splattered over the side of his cheek and into his eyelashes. 

Louis spun around and saw Harry crumpled next to him and then the figure in the distance. In a split decision, he raised his gun and fired, hitting the tree beside the figure, splattering him with green paint but nothing elimination standard. The figure darted away. 

He then glanced down at the boy at his feet and murmured, “Harry, god, Harry, are you okay?” 

Harry stirred and grinned weakly. “Yeah. Shit, those paintball guns hurt.” 

Louis laughed quietly and nodded, unsure of what to do. “Yeah, yeah they do.”

Harry struggled up and said, “Go on, Louis, do it for the team. There are only two of them out there now, and both of them are attacking. You’re fit, you can beat ‘em.”

Louis took a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He lifted a thumb and wiped off some of the purple paint off Harry’s cheek. 

Harry grinned. “I’ll see you in hell.”

Louis’ face split into a wide, wide smile, crinkling his eyes. “In hell,” then he darted towards Harry, kissed his cheek and sprinted away, towards the flag. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg, I really like the paintballing scene and I don't think I've seen any other Larry fic use it yet so yay! Anyways, see you soon :)


	4. Chapter 4

Somehow, against all odds, Louis won the game for them. Harry couldn’t exactly recall what had happened but he remembered stupid little details like the booming “Team 2 wins” and Louis’ face fixed in jubilance coming racing towards the boys waiting in the dead zone. He remembered cheering and reaching out arms and then the scent of Louis, mixed with sweat and paint and lemons, nuzzled under his chin and the ache of his arms from squeezing him tight and the ache in his heart from pride squeezing him breathless.

The drive back had been noisy and loud, all enthusiastically going back over their victory and the number of people they’d eliminated. Harry won, beating Louis by one person, which Niall said was “Impressive” and Louis said was “Unfair”. 

When Harry reached their room, promising to see Liam down at the entrance in ten minutes, the excitement still strummed in his blood. 

He and Louis raced each other to their bedrooms and he yelled, “I’ll beat you to getting done,” which had been met with a witty retort that went something along the sexual lines, making Harry splutter and grin. 

He decided on a cloth, dark green headband to hide his unruly curls somewhat, tight skinny dark jeans and black top that hung from his shoulders well. He tripped into the bathroom and scrubbed his teeth and combed his hair a little to give it some height. 

He rushed out of the bathroom to tumble onto the sofa and cheered gleefully, “Hah! Beat you, Lou!”

There was a brief pause before Louis muffled laugh came through down the hallway and a, “Whatever, I’ll be there in a sec, love.”

Harry tugged on his favourite, scruffy leather ankle high boots and a checked, thin jacket. He pulled out his phone to a text from Liam. 

_Liam: You done yet, divas?? Zayn is down already and Niall is in the lift._

_Harry: Think Louis may be a few more minutes… divas?? excuse me Liam but just remember who beat you in the kill count ._

_Liam: shut up_

_Harry: :P_

He scrolled down Facebook and added the boys but nothing was really happening. One of his friends, Nick, was on a gap year but didn’t have enough money to travel. Apparently, he was going to spend a year working everywhere around Britain.

After a while, he looked up. It had been ten minutes and Louis still wasn’t out. “You alright?” Harry called, concern creeping into his voice. “Haven’t locked yourself in, have you?”

There was no reply this time and Harry pushed himself off the sofa to his room. He knocked once before twisting the doorknob open. 

“Lou?” 

The boy was sitting down, his head in his heads. 

Harry rushed up to him. “Louis? Are you… hey, are you okay?”

Louis looked up but his eyes were bright and cheerful. “Oh yeah, don’t worry about it. I’m just… just not feeling well at the moment. You guys can go on without me.”

Harry stared at him, a slight frown furrowing his brow. “Are you sure? Oh god, I didn’t give you kissing disease did I?”

Louis laughed weakly which only alarmed Harry more. Louis wasn’t supposed to laugh at his stupid jokes.

“No, no, don’t worry about it love. Go on, I’ll text Liam for you,”

“No, I can do it,” Harry reassured him distractedly. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask…” Harry hesitated, trying to gauge what Louis’ reaction would be. The boy simply gazed at him, waiting. “All these.. um, y’know… kisses… I mean, today -”

“Oh, no, don’t take it personally,” Louis was swift to correct him. “Today, it was kind of because, like, don’t get offended, but you were wriggling and making noise and would have given us away if I hadn’t of… shut up you up.”

Harry winced because he was immediately hit with this vision of Louis above him, sweaty and dark-eyed, _making_ him shut up.

Louis mistook his sudden arousal as uncomfortableness. “Yeah, no, don’t worry about it. I should of, like, asked you but um, yeah. That’s why. We’re not really _like_ that?” Louis’ voice rose up at the end to signal some sort of confirmation from Harry.

Harry, meanwhile, had finally understood what Louis was actually saying.

“Oh,” Harry blurts and closes his mouth quickly before he can say anymore. He takes a breath before nodding slowly, carefully. “Yeah, if that’s what you - yeah.” All his previous interest was slowly dying into this awful greyish colour because what had he been _thinking?_

He’d been so caught up in everything happening and getting to know Louis so well and god, was it really this morning when he’d wondered if Louis and Zayn had had some sort of gay relationship?? Embarrassment, hot and red, flushed his cheeks and ears.

Louis had already returned his head to his hands, continuing as if they had never mentioned the kiss. “So yeah, I’m not feeling well enough to like, go out… Liam’s definitely wondering where you are by now.”

Harry felt torn between hesitation to leave Louis and the overwhelming desire to get out of this room, _immediately._ “Well, if you’re sure. I’ll see you tonight or in the morning then.”

“Yeah,” Louis whispered. Then a bit louder, “Have fun.”

Concern and deepening embarrassment continued to follow him like a wispy cloud around his head, his thoughts tangling themselves to question every touch, every moment he’d misjudged Louis, until he reached the group of waiting boys at the entrance. He stopped for a moment to take a breath.

Zayn was puffing warmth into his hands, stamping, while Niall seemed to be bouncing from foot to foot, excitedly talking to Liam about something. The air was cold and fresh, smelling like smoke and rain. Harry smiled, feeling lighter, and came into view.

Zayn’s eyes lit up at the sight of Harry. “It’s Harry! Let’s go, boys!” Harry laughed and caught Niall’s crooked arm, determinedly setting behind the caramel-coloured, blue eyed boy.

The club was pulsating with grinding music and they all pushed their way to the bar. “Shots?” Niall offered, his smile growing a little crazy. 

Harry laughed, “Hell no, I’m not entering a drinking competition with an Irishman!”

Liam laughed and downed his first glass, “Live a little!” and hell, Harry thought wildly, why not? 

Turned out Nick-from-school was one of the barmen and he had beckoned Harry with a loud, cheerful greeting and plied him with alcohol, promising him that in “Half an hour, and I’ll be off, wait a few, yeah?” and Harry nodded, experiencing a pleasant mixture of carelessness and alcohol. 

Far too many shots later and Harry found himself pressed against Nick, breathing in his unfamiliar scent of hair gel and heavy cologne. Compared to Louis’ light, golden smell, Nick was spicy and somehow more masculine.

“How ya doin, Harry?” Nick murmured against Harry’s ear, tickling his curls as he leant down a little. “Haven’t seen you forever.”

Nick was a lot taller than Louis too and Harry squeezed his eyes shut to block out the treacherous thought. 

“I’m good,” he giggled back and then looked up, eyesight a little hazy. Nick looked down at him, head bent, watching him with dark eyes. “How are you?” Harry asked in polite tipsiness and Nick smiled before pressing his mouth to Harry’s. 

Harry gasped a little before responding quickly to keep up.  

Nick was much rougher than Louis and why, _why_ was Harry comparing this gorgeous older man to a boy that had just rejected him on very firm, clear terms. At that thought he reached his hands up into Nick’s hair and pressed himself closer, gyrating his body faster to the music. 

Nick suddenly clamped his big hands onto Harry’s hips and gave him a warning look. “Now, Styles, don’t try and start something you won’t finish.”

Harry grinned, dimpling and feeling a little wild and a lot drunk. “Depends.”

Nick half-smiled and then continued to grind to the music. “On what?”

“If it’s mine or yours.” Harry whispered, drunkenly trying to keep up with the bigger lad. A few seconds later, Nick had whisked him away, tugging on his wrist a little harshly out of the club. 

“Let’s go yours,” Nick muttered and began sucking on Harry’s neck noisily. Feeling completely drunk, Harry let his head hang back and his eyes close as they waited for a cab. 

Twenty blurred minutes later, and Harry found himself inside the lift, and their actions were messy and sweaty and mostly consisted of Nick holding Harry up against the wall, pushing his tongue in, cruelly, invasively.

Relax, Harry told himself. This is fun, this is fine, and yet, perhaps it was his state of intoxication but he felt a little off. They stumbled out of the lift and towards the door and Harry giggled, fumbling for the keys as Nick shoved against him desperately, mouthing at his neck. “Hang on, wait, Nick, stop!” until finally the key slid in and they stumbled towards Harry’s room. 

He didn’t think they’d make it much past the kitchen as Nick again slammed him against the wall and began snogging the soul out of him. He tipped his head back a little and opened his eyes as Nick began to work on his collarbones. 

Suddenly, the slight tingling warmth Nick had worked into him froze. Louis was cuddled up in blankets on the sofa, his huge blue eyes staring at them, a mug clutched in small hands. Otherwise his expression was impossible to make out in the dimness of the room. 

“Nick, babe, hang on, seriously, _Nick, stop_ ,” Harry said insistently, pushing Nick off him. Nick stepped back, breathing hard, pupils blown and skin shiny with a sheen of sweat. 

“What’s wrong?” Nick panted. 

“I - I’m -” As Harry clumsily scrambled around for an excuse, Nick’s eyes followed Harry’s and he spun round to see Louis’ face peeking out from the cuddle of blankets. 

“Is it your roommate?” Nick leered, turning back to Harry. “Is he a bit squeamish? Don’t worry, baby, I’ll keep you quiet.”

For some reason, Harry’s stomach lurched sickeningly. “Um, no, I didn’t tell you but I have a…” Drunkenness threatened to pull him into the inviting arms of warm, empty sleep. He blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Kissing disease.”

Nick froze. “What? Are you serious?”

Harry nodded earnestly. “Yeah, I’m so sorry, I should have thought but I - ”

Nick stepped further away from him. “What the fuck Harry? Are you for real? Will I definitely get it? Is yours contagious? Oh fucking hell, Harry - you realise how bad this is going to look?”

Then, without waiting for an answer, he stormed out of the apartment. Harry waiting for the door to slam shut and groaned, holding his head in his hands, sliding down the wall.

Louis spoke for the first time since Harry had come back, “Well.”

Harry sighed, big and deep, and dragged his feet to the kitchen for water and aspirin against the oncoming headache. God, he did not look forward tomorrow morning’s hangover. 

He popped the pill into his mouth and stumbled over to Louis who was snuggled up on the sofa. “Did you wait?” his fuzzy mind wondered out loud.

“No.” Louis said, a little too quickly.

Harry swayed unsteadily before gulping down a huge mouthful of water. “Don’t want to go to sleep,” he told Louis sadly.

Louis huffed a laugh. “Why not?”

Harry glared at Louis because Louis was mean, he knew that Harry was sodden with alcohol and Louis rejected Harry even though _he_ was the one who had started kissing him. He couldn’t keep the frown for long though because it was too much effort so he just kind of stood there, staring down at Louis’ little body wrapped up in a dark pink blanket.

Louis raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to bed, Harry?”

“I… I -” Suddenly, Harry burst into tears and sank down onto the sofa holding his heavy head in his hands. It was all too hard and Louis was all too beautiful, how dare he curl up there in front of Harry and make Nick go away and _sure_ maybe Harry wasn’t enjoying the attention from Nick as much as he should have been but really it all came back to Louis because he made Harry feel a hundred times more alive with a single touch than in Nick’s tight, hot arms.

Louis froze for a second before reaching over and pulling Harry into his lap and stroking away the damp curls from his face. “Hey… hey there Hazza,” he murmured comfortingly. Harry shut his eyes and sniffed, more tears coming. Louis pulled off the headband with his gentle, small fingers, slowly so as not to pull Harry’s hair and thumbed away the tears leaking from under Harry’s lashes. 

Harry curled his arms into his chest and breathed in the scent of lemons and pepper and hiccuped a little on another sob. He felt Louis sigh and say softly, “Oh heart…” and Harry squeezed a bit of Louis which was under the blanket in response. 

Louis jumped and then let out a nervous laugh. “I think I need to get you to bed, Harry,” he said, a little higher than normal, and wriggled out from under the sheets to heave Harry off the sofa. 

Harry groaned and leaned again Louis’ smaller frame and yet feeling like the fragile one. Louis, with surprising strength, let Harry lean on his warm shoulder as they made their way slowly to Harry’s bedroom and his care and gentleness reminded him abruptly of Mum.

“I really miss her,” Harry realised and he felt Louis move his head a little in acknowledgement of his voice. 

“Who?”

“My mum. And my sister. I’ve never been away from them for so long.” Harry thought out loud dejectedly. 

Louis laughed, a little rumble that Harry felt. “Okay, love, here we are.” He untangled Harry’s arm from around his shoulder and let him slide onto the big bed. 

Harry slowly wormed his way under the sheets and then looked up at Louis with big eyes and a small pout. “Too big.”

Louis laughed quietly, like a secret, and replied, “Count yourself as lucky,”

Harry nestled his cheek on the cool pillow and continued to stare at Louis. His body was silhouetted by the dim lights from the kitchen, haloing his messy, copper hair with soft light. You’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever met, Harry thought and believed it so hard he thought his heart might burst and yet his tongue felt too thick for his tongue and he just blurted out, “You’re pretty.”

This time Louis didn’t laugh. Instead he half-turned away and, perhaps it was just Harry’s hazy state of mind, but he thought he saw shame drench the pixie sharp contours of his face. “Get some sleep.”

“Join me?” Harry said and didn’t really care for how needy it sounded. 

Louis took a deep breath and then shrugged. “Sure.”

Harry closed his eyes and just listened as Louis climbed into the bed and under the warm, white sheets. He reached out and pulled the smaller boy to him with a little sigh of exertion. Louis squeaked and tensed under Harry’s touch before relaxing.

He was wearing a cottony shirt and boxers but Harry could feel his body warmth seeping into Harry’s fingertips. He dragged his fingers lazily up and down Louis’ spine, listening to the boy shiver and sigh and felt strangely comforted just by the knowledge that Louis was _there_.

“Night Louis,” Harry smiled to himself, loving the way his name melted on his tongue. He finally stilled the movement of his fingers across Louis’ back and curled his hands into half-opened fists between his and Louis’ chests. 

Then, just as he fell into sleep, he heard Louis breathe to himself, “Pretty?” with a tone of such disbelief that somewhere, under the folds of sleep, Harry twitched in sympathy. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry woke in the morning to an armful of warm skin and a throbbing head. He blinked his eyes open stickily to see Louis nestled just a few inches away, breathing in and out softly, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks every once in a while as he dreamed on. 

_Wow Harry, don’t think you could have got any creepier and then this,_ Harry thought to himself dryly. Suddenly a thought struck him. What if he and Louis had… done something…? Like, if that happened, half of him dreaded Louis’ reaction and the other half berated himself for not being in the proper state of mind to enjoy it.

In fact, the last thing he can really remember is stumbling out of a club with Nick mouthing his neck. Where was Nick then? 

He groaned and rolled out of bed, slowly reaching for clothes. His phone thumped out of his pocket as he shook out his sweaty, foul-smelling jeans and he glanced at it briefly. 

Fourteen messages and two missed calls.

Oops. He’d totally forgotten about the boys, they must have been worried sick. 

And yep!

8 texts from Liam Payne, most of which consisted of _harry?_ and _pls pick up your phone, we’re worried sick_

Four from Niall which ranged from 

_found sumone ayyy?_

_can i come up t ur room cause z and l r staring at each other and I forgot my keys and i’m scared they’re gonna start getting it on_

_nm i’m going to sleep at josh’s_

_dick_

And then there were two from Zayn which read,

_Liam is pacing about and its really annoying , can u jst pick up the goddam phone_

and then, almost as an afterthought, _i dont even give a fuck if ur fucking rn_

Harry quickly texted them all back, reassuring them that he had returned home safely but refrained from addressing whether he got with anyone because even _he’s_ not really sure what happened. 

Louis wandered into the kitchen a good hour later, still wearing his cotton pyjamas. His  hair was still fuzzy from sleep and his eyes were sleepy and baby blue.

Harry was hopelessly endeared.

“Hey,” Louis said cautiously and _oh god_ if that didn’t sound like the prelude to a conversation about ‘last night’, then nothing did.

“Hey,” Harry replied casually and turned from the stove to place the eggs he had been cooking onto the plates of toast and baked beans. “So, um, about last night…”

Louis glanced up quickly and something Harry couldn’t read flashed across his face. Anticipation? Dread? “Did we like… did we do anything?” he asked quickly and winced at how timid and squeamish it sounded. 

Louis’ tension in his shoulders relaxed and he shook his head smilingly. “Nah, not exactly.”

Harry slid over cutlery to Louis and sat down. “So, what happened?”

Louis’s smile grew wider. “You came home drunk with a guy you were planning to fuck or something and then you remembered I was still here and made up some excuse which got him scurrying away. Then… uh… I sent you to bed and you asked me to join you,” Louis summed up neatly and Harry’s face literally flamed.

_Asked him_. God, his drunken state is so needy. Mind you, Louis had complied… Harry contemplated the boy in front of him and then corrected himself. He didn’t know what he had done to get Louis in bed. 

Louis smiled sleepily and shrugged, as if he had read Harry's mind. “You didn’t do anything to embarrass yourself, pal. S’fine.”

Harry nodded slowly and they ate their breakfast in comfortable quietness while the undercurrents of cars and morning birds outside leaked in through the walls. 

And that was all that was spoken of that night. 

The days drifted past easily, creeping closer to the beginning of the start of university. Harry found himself spending most of his time with Louis and then, if not, with Zayn and Niall. He found it easier, simpler even, to try and ignore the rush of sparks that lit him up whenever Louis gave him a glance or a touch instead of trying to completely squash the aching in his heart.

Despite that, his favourite moments were snuggled up to Louis under that dark pink blanket watching the new series of X Factor that Louis was obsessed with, or talking quietly, exchanging their thoughts about things about the world way past into the dusky hours of early morning.

Sometimes, he was no longer sure how he survived, especially at night. He and Louis had since made an agreement to continue to share beds because of an assortment of meaningless excuses such as “the nights are colder at the moment” or “I feel lonely and homesick” or “this bed is too big”. Of course, some of them contributed to the reason why, but really Harry’s motive was to have the comfort of just knowing that Louis was beside him each night, breathing softly. 

Louis didn’t snore but apparently Harry did, which had triggered their first argument. And, honestly, Harry wasn’t sure if he should be keeping tabs on things like that but he couldn’t help himself. 

He just couldn’t. 

However, it was the day before the start of semester, where Harry’s hard work all threatened to crash down on him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, both of these should have posted earlier but I saved it as a draft and didn't realise it didn't post... sorry for the delay for those who are reading :))


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